Harry sighed in relief as he fell back against the train seat in between his two best friends; Ron and Hermione. The summer with the Dursleys had been hell and he was glad to finally be heading back to Hogwarts, his real home. But it was bittersweet as Harry continued to experience conflicting emotion about returning to the Wizarding World. On one hand he was more than happy to leave the abusive confining presence of the Dursleys and back to where people actually cared if he lived or died. But on the other hand Hogwarts was no longer served as a haven for him as it once did and now held some unpleasant memories for him as well. Cedric's murder had shaken him to the core and after three months Harry still hadn't quite gotten over the boy's death. He felt responsible somehow despite the Headmaster's reassurances that none of it was his fault. Harry absently rubbed the lighting bolt shape scar on his forehead, the now constant dull ache from his normally dormant scar served as a painful reminder that he was indirectly responsible for the return of the Dark Lord. Harry felt bone weary and tired. He had finally realized that they weren't just playing a childhood game between good and evil. This was war and with war came casualties. People could be killed. People he knew and cared about.
And the worst part was that he was powerless to do anything about it. The Ministry foolishly refused to believe that Voldermort had returned. How were they expected to win the war when the majority of the Wizarding World refused to believe that one even existed? He couldn't fight Voldermort by himself. That fact was made painfully clear after the whole Tri-wizardry Tournament disaster. Harry had fought Voldermort with all his might but it wasn't enough to save Cedric or prevent the dark wizard from rising. He was barely able to get away with his own skin. They all saw him as a hero, the boy who lived and the savior of the Wizarding World. But the truth was he couldn't save them; he couldn't even save himself. He was just some dumb lucky kid with the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"Harry are you alright?" asked Hermione in concern.
Ron lowered the Quidditch magazine he was reading from his face. "Yeh mate, you been awfully quiet ever since we boarded the train."
Harry's attention snapped back to his best friends and shrugged. "I'm fine. I'm just tired. It's been a long summer."
Hermione's hazel brown eye creased with sympathy. "Oh Harry. Was the Dursleys that bad?"
Harry smiled and he couldn't stop himself from wondering if she was just being polite or if she really wanted to know. He wasn't use to people actually caring about him. The Dursleys usually yelled at him, pushed him around and generally making his life a living hell. It was a nice to know people cared, but he didn't want them to worry about him. "Naw, no worst than usual. I'm just glad that we're heading back to Hogswarts."
"Yeah I can't wait for the feast either. I'm starving," nodded Ron in agreement.
"Oh really Ron does everything have to be about your stomach," admonished Hermione disapprovingly as she tossed her bushy mane over her shoulder with a flick of her head.
"Of course not," agreed Ron seriously and Hermione looked at him in surprised.
"Really?"
Ron winked at Harry and smiled mischievously. "There's also Quidditch."
Harry sat back in his seat and smiled at his friends with a warm feeling in his chest as they bickered back and forth. Despite all his worries it felt good to be home.
Willow vigorously wiped her face with a cold damp flannel. Her eyes were still red and puffy from the hours she spent crying in her room. She knew a spell that could hide her blotchy appearance but she just couldn't seem to summon enough energy to cast it. She felt completely miserable and in a few moments she would have to go to the Great Hall to be sorted in front of a school full of students looking like she had just cried her eyes out. Willow laughed bitterly. She was just being silly. It really shouldn't hurt this much. She had only been going out with Draco for less than two weeks if one could even call what they were doing going out. But it still hurt. It felt like Draco had torn her heart out of her chest and stomped on it for good measure. She shouldn't have been surprised. The prejudice little git had never even tried to hide his dislike for muggle borns; and, the very first time Draco was confronted by one of his snobbish little friends the little snot broke it off.
Willow didn't tell Professor Snape about what had happen because she couldn't face the man after he had warned her about the boy. Professor Snape didn't seem the type to suffer fools and he had warned her after all. She respected and even admired the professor and she didn't want to look like a fool in the man's eyes. He would probably called her silly little girl for crying over something as trivial as a crush. So for the last few days Willow steadfastly avoided both Draco and Snape by hiding in her room with only Ms. Kitty to keep her company. But she couldn't hide any longer. The Great Hall would be full with students by now and the professors were expecting her. Willow just hoped that she wouldn't burst into tears at the first sight of the blond Slytherin.
Willow slipped quietly through the open doors and hid unnoticed in the shadows at the back of the room. The Great Hall had never looked so magnificent. The ceiling was charmed to look like the night sky. The stars shined like a thousand bright pinpricks in the sky. Hundreds of candles hovered just below the ceiling, above the students' heads, casting the room under a warm soft glow. The overall affect was quite enchanting but Willow was more impress by the shear number of people that now occupied the room. The four long tables were brimming with over hundred students each and the air was filled with a buzz of excitement as the students squirmed impatiently in their seats. Willow fidgeted nervously with her school robes, brushing wrinkles and fuzz from the long black robe with trembling fingers. She had no idea what to do as she stood undecided by the door. Normally she would sit next to Draco at the end of the Slytherin table during meals, but she knew she wouldn't be welcomed there and the thought of sitting with a table full of strangers was almost terrifying.
One by one the first years were called to be sorted by the famous and supposedly all knowing Hogwarts Hat. The headmaster had explained the whole sorting process to Willow weeks ago, but words couldn't describe what she was seeing now. The whole thing was just odd even for a girl from Sunnydale. Really the whole talking hat thing gave her the creeps. Once the last student was sorted and seated everyone looked at the headmaster expectantly. Dumbledore ignored them as his searching blue eyes fell on Willow and she froze. Slowly every head in the room turned to see what had caught the headmaster's attention and soon several hundred pairs of eyes were staring curiously at her.
Harry's green eyes fell on the redhead's small form and he flushed a bit when he caught himself staring a little too long at her face. "Who's that?" whispered Harry curiously.
Hermione leaned back in her seat and peered down the isle. "I don't know? I've never seen her before."
"I don't care who she is but she's bloody gorgeous," leered Seamus shamelessly.
"Yeah she's a real knockout not at all like the other girls," agreed Ron enthusiastically.
Hermione gave Ron an indignant look. "Excuse me?"
The red haired boy paled under Hermione menacing glare and stuttered nervously. "Um I'm not saying you're not pretty just not as pretty."
Dean groaned from three seats down. "Smooth Weasley real smooth."
"Shut it," Ron growled before he turned pleading eyes towards Harry. "Mate, help me out here."
Harry tore his gaze from the pretty girl and shook his head at his best friend in amusement. "No way Ron, you're on your own."
Ron looked desperately around the table for help but none of the other Gryffindor boys would even make eye contact with him. 'Cowards. Where was the famous Gryffindor bravery when he needed it?' thought Ron bitterly. Out of sheer desperation Ron searched the other houses for anything that would save him from Hermione's raft. "Hey look! The Slytherins are acting weird," whispered Ron enthusiastically. He sighed in relief when Hermione gave him one last glare before she turned away.
Sure enough the Slytherins were acting more suspicious than usual. Their heads were bent close together as they whispered vigorously amongst themselves. Oddly enough the only person who wasn't actively participating was Draco Malfoy who normally would be in the center of the rumor mill, spreading lies about Harry. But instead Malfoy sat silently at the end of the table apart from the gossip mongers with a sour look on his face.
"Before we begin the feast there is one last student to be sorted. Ms. Rosenberg is quite new to our world, but she is no stranger to magic and the supernatural and I'm sure she will surprise us all."
Willow could feel the blush blossomed on her cheeks as she made her way to the head table with her head hung low. The whispering grew louder as she past the Slytherin table and Willow quickened her pace as much as possible without appearing as if she was actually running. Willow was positive that she didn't want to hear what they were saying and she tried very hard to ignore their whispers. But despite her best efforts the low hiss of mudblood drifted from the table and Willow's face flushed hot with anger and hurt.
After what felt like forever Willow finally made it to the platform. Professor McGonagall stood stern and imposing on top of the stage and the professor gave Willow an impatient look as she ascended the stairs. Willow quickly sat down on the stool, legs pressed firmly together with her hands clenched tightly over her shaky knees. She jumped slightly as the large old ratty hat was plopped unceremoniously on top of her head. 'Really this couldn't be sanitary. What if I get lice or something?' thought Willow idly.
The hat chuckled silently in her head. 'Well that's a fair question, but surprisingly you are the very first to ask me that? Maybe I should place you in Ravenclaw. They are a very practical bunch.'
Willow mentally cringed. She didn't mean to think that.
'Oh flubber waddle, you certainly did and it was a good question. So where shall you go? You're smart, very smart. You would do well in Ravenclaw. Yes, quite a thirst for knowledge you have there that I have seen in only a few, but for power too. You don't just want to know things you want to be able to do things, powerful and wonderful things that no one have ever done before. Perhaps than Slytherin is the best place for you.'
Willow looked over to the Slytherin table and stared longingly at Draco. She found it hard to believe that this was the same charming boy she had met during the summer. He looked so different with his hair slicked back against his head, empathizing the sharp angular features of his face. Somehow it made him look colder, less human and Willow decided that she liked it better when his hair fell loose about his head is soft long tresses. A few days ago she would be ecstatic over joining Draco's house, but now the very thought made her stomach queasy. She didn't know what she wanted now.
'Perhaps what you want isn't the question you should be asking yourself. Perhaps why is a better one? Why do you study? Why do you want knowledge? Why do you want power?'
Willow was worried about the friends she had left behind to guard the Hellmouth alone. She was proud about all the people she had saved since learning about what goes bump in the night and then she was sadden about those she couldn't save like Jesse, Jenny, Angel and the countless number of faces because she was too late or just didn't know how.
'For one with such a noble heart there is only one place left for you.'
"GRYFFINDOR!"